08 Aug 2014 – Park
The discipline of paving parking lots
extends to planting pines – four in a row.
A healthy separation as they squat.
Sweet nature never would’ve placed them so.
We pimp her in our folly – to our doom,
demanding form where chaos ever ruled,
our children’s children left to pay the debt,
their father’s fathers long since in their tombs –
in life so wise, in death revealed as fools
beyond all consolation of regret.